


A Towerling's Fall

by Dellessa



Series: Surviving the Revolution [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=13953792#t13953792</p><p>Early in the war, or just before it. A bunch of nobles are gathered together for a grand ball to pretend that there's no civil unrest going on. But the party is crashed by a group of Decepticons, who proceed to slaughter most of those present to dispose of important political figures and to spread terror.</p><p>One of the younger nobles manages to bargain servitude for his life with one of the attackers. The young noble is taken back to the Decepticon base as a slave. But then things go a little differently than might be expected.</p><p>Among nobles bonding is so often done by agreement rather than for love, that their idea of interfacing has become pretty skewed. For the receiving party, interfacing is all about pleasing their more dominant partner, and mutual pleasure is something of a myth. So when the ex-noble is taken to berth by his new master, he's totally unprepared for the Decepticon to take the time to get him revved up and the following overload. He just never knew it could be done.</p><p>Well, if his master can promise that there's more of THAT to come, then this slavery thing might work out for the long run after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Towerling's Fall

If Mirage had not known any better, he never would have guessed that there was still rioting in the streets below. Sirenus tower was full of music from the ball. Light flickered high up in the ceiling, like stars. They twinkled and pulsed with the music. It was beautiful, and it was the last place in the world Mirage wanted to be. 

His bondmate, Carbonsteel, mingled through the crowd, flitting from group to group. He didn’t care about Mirage’s discomfort, but Mirage never expected him to. It was not the way these things worked. He knew that his pleasure or happiness mattered little in the contract his creators had signed him into. He was not the dominate mate. 

Mirage wandered to the refreshment table and picked up a ruby-hued cube of high-grade, and downed it far faster than he should have. It burned going down and left the room dim and fuzzy to his optics. There was this at least. Provided he did not become overcharged Carbonsteel wouldn't say a thing. 

As far as bondmates went Carbonsteel was tolerable. He did not beat Mirage. If anything Mirage had to deal with his indifference, and perform his mately ‘duties’ whenever the mech wished for it. It was not as bad as it could be. Some were not so lucky. 

He could have ended up with a mate that would beat him. That was what had happened to one of his younger siblings, Prism. He had ran away from the mech, and Mirage’s creators had marched him right back to his bondmate. Mirage could not help but feel sorry for him, and cringe at the thought as he remembered Prism’s energon spattered frame. The mech had taken after their creator, and had a Praxian’s frame. He had been a lovely mech, and sweet. It had not stopped his bondmate from ripping off his doorwings in punishment. 

Mirage was lucky. Indifference was much preferred to abuse. 

He grabbed another cube, chasing it down. Soon they would be back home to their own tower and Mirage could go visit his chronohorses, and cyberhounds. It had been a long time since they had participated in the turbofox hunts. It was one thing that Mirage adored, and while Carbonsteel did not like to participate he also did not raise a stink when Mirage did. 

Mirage was so distracted that at first he did not understand what the explosions and screams were as they ripped through the building, and then he found himself running. 

Shots rang out, and mechs fell around him. He turned, catching a glimpse of Carbonsteel battling a large mech, and then...then the mech plunged a great sword through Carbonsteel’s chassis, nearly splitting him in two. 

Mirage’s vents stuttered. He didn’t want to offline like this. He ducked into one of the side rooms, finding a storage closet he pressed inside, and curled up as small as he could in a corner, pressing his hands over his audials. 

He could still hear the screams and the nobles, beyond the doors. The sound of weapons discharging made Mirage flinch and curl into a smaller ball. He wished he could make himself disappear. 

The door burst open, revealing a Seeker looming in the doorway. He levelled his weapon at Mirage, the plasma weapon hummed as it heated up. 

“Please don’t, p-please,” Mirage begged, he knelt to the floor, prostrating himself. “Please don’t offline me. I---I will do anything.”

The flier hesitated, his gold optics brightening with interest. “Anything?” 

“Yes,” Mirage trembled, “Anything.” 

“Standup. Let me look at you.” 

Mirage shoot as he stood up. The mech put a gun under his chin and pushed it up forcing him to look up. “Please.” He had a chance to look up at the mech. A Seeker, and a large one. He towered over Mirage and looked him up and down, his gaze piercing enough to make Mirage squirm. 

“I think you will do,” the mech purred, lifting Mirage up and tucking him under an arm like he was a piece of luggage and not a living mech. 

He was too scared to struggle. He just closed his optics tight and hoped that the Con would have pity on him.

OoOoOoOo

Mirage followed closely behind the Seeker as he strolled through the Decepticon base. Other Decepticons passed the blue Seeker, and saluted as they passed. Who had he been taken by? He wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed as though he was high in the ranks. No one had stopped him from taking Mirage away from the battle site. No one had tried to touch Mirage, in fact they pointedly ignored his presence.

Mirage hurried to keep up with the blue mech. He had a long stride, but soon they reached their apparent destination. The Seeker put in his code and the door slid open. He turned back, and for the first time he looked back at Mirage. 

“Go inside,” he said, and looked at him hard again, making Mirage squirm even as he moved to obey. 

Once inside Mirage stood in the center of the room, unsure of what he was supposed to do or what was expected of him. 

“What is your name, little one?”

“I-it is Mirage, m-master,” he winced inside. It was better to get used to it. This would be his life. 

“Pretty name for a pretty little bot,” the Seeker said, tipping up Mirage’s chin. His face descended, their lips clashing together, and Mirage relaxed. This at least was familiar territory. He could please this mech. He had done so with his own bondmate enough times. 

The mech picked him up, as he broke the kiss and carried him through the living area into what Mirage guessed was the berthroom. He was pushed down onto a soft berth, moaning in confusion as the Seeker nibbled down his chassis. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to please this mech, not the other way around. 

A whine escaped his lips as the Seeker lapped at Mirage’s interface panel. It snapped open with an echoing click. The Seeker did not waste a moment, his glossa pushed inside, plundering the wet depths of Mirage’s valve. 

The smaller mech’s engine revved loudly, and something felt as though it was building up inside of him. It was a confusing feeling, one he had never felt before. Certainly not with Carbonsteel. He panted, his vents heaving open as his frame tried to dispel the heat building in his chassis. 

Mirage squealed as a wave of pleasure washed through him, knocking him offline. When he woke the Seeker was watching him him with some concern. “You are very...sensitive aren’t you? I’ve never seen a mech get revved up so...Quickly.” 

Mirage stared at him, “I...I don’t understand. What was that? Master?”

“Thundercracker. When we are in these rooms you will call me Thundercracker. Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes. I-I understand, Thundercracker. I---I---don’t understand what happened though.” 

Thundercracker laughed, “You overloaded, little mech. Were your lovers not considerate enough see to your pleasure?”

Mirage’s optics widened, “Interfacing usually...hurts. I---we don’t---” He blinked up at Thundercracker completely at a loss for words. “It is not about the submissive mates pleasure. That isn’t how it works,” Mirage said, shaken. “Isn’t it?” 

“No, both partners should feel pleasure, little bot. It is pity that you have had such selfish lovers in the past. Perhaps we should remedy that?” He punctuated each word with a nip at Mirage’s neck cording. 

Mirage had never heard Thundercracker’s panel open, but soon there was a familiar pressure against the rim of his valve. He was slick this time, as the spike slid inside. He had never felt stretched so wide. The platelets rippled as the callipers tried to cycle down.

Thundercracker groaned above him as the tight valve rippled and clamped down tightly on his spike.

Mirage whimpered, feeling overwhelmed, he’d never felt like this. Usually it hurt, at best he felt indifferent about interfacing. Carbonsteel had pointed out over and over that it was Mirage’s job to make him feel good. It was his duty. He never got Mirage all revved up as Thundercracker did, and the slip inside was usually dry. if Mirage was lucky Carbonsteel would have used lubricant, because Mirage certainly never produced any. 

It was humiliating. 

This though...this was nothing like that. Warmth spread through his system as Thundercracker moved inside of him, hitting nodes that Mirage didn’t even know he had. He writhed under the Seeker, screaming as overload ripped through him again, and finally offlined, falling limp against the berth.

OoOoOoOo

It wasn’t all cuddles and interfacing. Thundercracker was strict in many things. There were rules, and chores that had to be done by Mirage. Even then it was still better than his situation before. He had not realized things were as bad as they were or how very unhappy he had been.

He ran the polishing cloth in circles across Thundercracker’s plating slowly, and smiled as he brought the metal to a bright sheen. He had never polished anyone, let alone another mech before. He had always had servants do such tasks. It was relaxing, and Thundercracker seemed to enjoy it if the way he purred was any indication. 

Mirage worked his way across the back of the Seeker’s wings, polishing them until they shone as well. He worked his way back to the front, and barely finished before he was pulled into Thundercracker’s arms. Maybe it was mostly interfacing...

His panel slid open immediately, and he moaned when Thundercracker sheathed himself inside. It never stopped feeling amazing. He let his helm fall back, content to enjoy the ride. Thundercracker’s hands tightened around his hips moving him in a slow rhythm. 

Charge built slowly, crackling across Mirage’s plating until it built into a crescendo and pushed him over the edge. Mirage whimpered, and moaned when Thundercracker kept going. He thrust in harder and the charge rose again, more quickly until a wash of transfluid hit the inside of Mirage’s valve. The calipers tightened, milking the last bit of transfluid from Thundercracker’s spike. 

Mirage collapsed against him, a puddle of happy mech.

OoOoOoOo

Thundercracker rarely took him out, but it was...a special occasion. A victory party, the mech had said. Iacon had fallen. Praxus and Polyhex after that. It meant little enough to Mirage. he didn’t even mind the collar or the thin chain that lead from it up to Thundercracker’s hand. It was thin and clearly meant simply for show.

There were other mechs with similar collars and chains, but these looked heavy in a way that made Mirage wince in sympathy. Clearly they had inferior masters. 

They must not care to please them in the berth, or something. Mirage wasn’t sure. Thundercracker always left him feeling strutless. It wasn’t something he could imagine running away from. 

“I must talk to some mechs, Mirage. I want you to sit here. Do not leave. Do you understand?” 

Mirage opticed the place where Thundercracker was leaving him. A row of benches. There were other slaves there, chained to the wall. Thundercracker did not do that. He pressed the thin chain into Mirage’s hand, and smiled down at him as he sat down. “Be good. I have a treat for you when this is over.” 

Mirage’s engine revved, and his field pulsed with delight. He didn’t even stop smiling after Thundercracker had left. 

“What the frag, why aren’t ya high-tailing it outta here?” A voice said, startling Mirage. He turned, and stared at the black and white mech sitting off to one side of him. The mech glowered behind his blue visor. 

Mirage stared at him in confusion. “Why would I do that?” 

“Yer’ah prisoner like thah rest of us. I know I’d be gone already, and yet yah sit there lika lump.” 

“I---I don’t know what your problem is, but Thundercracker treats me well. He takes care of me.” 

The minibot stared, “He’s holdin’ you captive.” 

Mirage blinked back, “He gives me...you know.”

“No. I really don’t.” 

“Overloads,” Mirage said, optics widening as he hissed the word. 

The mini bot shook his helm, “Pretty sure any mech could do that.” 

“What? No! That isn’t possible. My carrier said that I wasn’t ever supposed to expect that kind of thing. Submissive mates do not---get that. And mutual pleasure, well I thought it was a myth. But he....he...” Mirage shivered, his engine revved loudly. 

The black and white mini stared at him with a look of horror on his faceplates, “Where the frag are you from? Any mech can do that.” 

“Don’t lie to me. I know the truth,” Mirage said, inching away from the minibot.

“Ah am not lying to you. Your one of those Tower mech’s aren’t you.”

Mirage stiffened, “I’m not going to listen to you. You don’t know what you are talking about. Thundercracker is good to me. much better than my bonded ever was. He cares about me.”

“Maybe he does,” a truck bot on the other side of the minibot said. “I mean...he treats him well....right?”

“Orion...sometimes ah wonder about you,” The black and white mini bot said. 

“Don’t mind Jazz. He is just not handling being caged very well. I’m Orion by the way. My master is Starscream, the red, white and blue mech talking to your master. This brat is Jazz. He’s...Megatron’s. That fact makes him cranky.” 

Jazz glared, “It would make any mech grumpy. Old bucket head is a horrible frag.” 

“You didn’t say that last nightcycle,” a voice rumbled, and Jazz was plucked up by his collar and dangled in front of a gunmetal grey behemoth. 

Mirage shrank away, but Jazz just cursed and squirmed in the mechs grip. “Lemme go, slag face. Let go of me!” The large mech carried the squirming minibot.

Mirage stared as the large mech sat down on the throne in the center of the room, and began to fondle the mini bot...in front of everyone. Mirage watched with shock in his field and his optics. He had heard rumours that some of the nobility held such parties, but he had never attended such a thing. 

He hid behind his hands, unable to look away when the large grey mech began to spike Jazz. The black and white mech writhed, moaning loudly. 

It was scandalous. 

Mirage’s fans kicked on, his frame heating up, much to his own horror. He wished that Thundercracker would come retrieve him, but the Seeker was no where to be seen, and Jazz’s cries grew in volume.

Orion inched closer, “Sometimes...I think he does that on purpose. He likes to...provoke Megatron.” 

Mirage squeaked. “Really?” 

“I think so. He knows what will happen, but he always does that. Megatron actually treats him rather well. Well, well considering that we are here against our will.” 

Mirage’s hands clenched about the thin chain he was holding. 

He was still clenching it uneasily when Thundercracker returned for him. He handed over the end of the chain to his master and looked up uneasily.

“What is wrong pet? Surely Orion did not upset you?” 

“No, master. He did not,” Mirage said, frowning. He wasn’t sure he believed anything that Jazz said. He reached up, taking Thundercracker’s hand. He didn’t care what the other mech said.

OoOoOoOo

The door was barely shut before Mirage found himself lifted and his back strut pressed against it. Thundercracker kissed him hard, but it didn’t wash away any of the doubt or confusion Mirage felt. It also didn’t make him any less eager. His panel snapped open with little enough coaxing on Thundercracker’s part.

He was still running hot from the Show Jazz had put on at the gathering. His temperature climbed, and he was venting heavily by the time Thundercracker’s sharp digits were pressing inside of him, scissoring and spreading him wide. 

His field was a clamour, full of mixed feelings about his situation and almost physically heavy with arousal. Thundercracker stopped, and watched him before finally speaking. “There is something wrong, pet, isn’t there?” 

Mirage whined, the last thing he wanted to do was to get Jazz in trouble. “Master, please.” 

“No. You know the rules. Tell me.” Thundercracker stopped entirely, leaving Mirage pinned. “Mirage...” 

“Ma---Thundercracker t-there is nothing wrong.” 

Thundercracker gave him a perturbed look, “Now you are lying.”

Mirage was carefully sat on the floor. He cringed away, expecting a blow that never came. 

“Mirage, you will tell me what is going on. Now.” 

Mirage whined, “J-jazz said I should be trying to get away. He said t-that anyone c-c-could overload me,” he squirmed at saying that. 

“Have I ever been cruel to you?” Thundercracker asked. 

“N-no.” 

“Have I ever hurt you?”

Mirage shook his helm, unable to make his vocalizer work. 

“You are my responsibility, and I take care of my responsibilities,” he said, scooping Mirage up. “Do you understand what that means?”

Mirage trembled, “I am your property.” 

“You are. It also means I will keep you safe, I will provide for you. All you have to worry about is my pleasure and pleasing me. I will take care of the rest.” He carried Mirage into the berthroom, pressing him down onto the berth. 

Mirage spread his legs, gasping as the mech moved into him, and believed what Thundercracker said. Nothing else mattered in that moment.


End file.
